


Renegade

by Tears2Roses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Cas, BAMF!Dean, Crazy!Sam, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Hell Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Kevin/OC - Freeform, Levithans, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Samifer - Freeform, Violence, crazy!Cas, demonic posession, leviathan!cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tears2Roses/pseuds/Tears2Roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has lost his best friend, his angel. He's struggling to move on and save people again. Chloe Winchester's mom is dead. She has no one left. Except for the father that doesn't know she exists. How will Dean react to the fact that he has a child he never knew? Can they defeat the leviathans? And will Dean ever get his angel back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

I didn’t have time for it. I couldn’t grieve. I didn’t let myself stop to process the loss of my mother and closest friend. That thing killed her, murdered her right in front of me. I was tied up and gagged on the other end of the dark, foul smelling room. My wrists were bloodied as I squirmed, trying to get free of my bonds. The blood made the ropes slick and they were starting to slip, pulling more skin with them. I didn’t flinch at the pain. 

He was an ordinary looking man. He had a regular white button up suit and a regular looking blue tie. But this was no man. His black eyes were the tell-tale sign of a demon, and I could see the monster convulsing underneath the face. It was a horrifying sight. He grinned evilly at me, his black eyes trained on me as he held the most important person in my life to his chest, a hand around her throat. 

His loud laugh rang loudly in my ears. He was choking my mother, her blue eyes wide and begging for air. Her arm reached out for me and I saw in her eyes that she wasn’t scared of dying. No, she was scared for me. For me. 

I screamed out in agony and helplessness as the demon snapped her neck and she fell, bloody and broken and dead, to the ground. I collapsed against myself, my head falling to my chest. I didn’t let myself feel it. In one quick moment, while the demon was still gloating over his latest kill, I slipped my bloody wrists through the ropes and pulled the gag out of my mouth and started the exorcism, my voice loud and strong. 

He reached his hand out to psychically slam me against the wall but I was too far. He started choking and gagging, and as he did I darted across the room and grabbed the demon blade he had stolen from my mother and I shoved it into his side, twisting it painfully sideways. I watched as the pain flickered across his face and the black faded from his eyes. He was dead. I pushed his body away from me and crawled to my mother, a sob rising in my throat. I pulled her body into my lap. She was still warm. 

I rocked back and forth, crying out at Heaven and Hell and God and angels and demons and whoever would listen. I wept over her body. She was the most important person in my life. The only one I had. My only family. Where would I go now? What would I do? I was too young to hunt on my own, it would be too suspicious for a 16 year old girl to go around chasing mystery deaths and staying in shady motels. I could barely pull off a good cop cover. What was I supposed to do now? 

I put that aside as I cleaned up the mess left behind from our latest hunt. I burned what was left of the demon’s meat suit and buried the charred remains. I gathered all of our weapons. All of my weapons now. I cleaned up the blood and packed everything back in our car. I carried my mother’s body to the nearest cemetery and buried her next to a grave marked Mary Cooper. Same last name as my mother, I could find it later. 

I poured gas on her body and dropped a match. I couldn’t risk her spirit coming back and I’d have to hunt that down, too. That might be too much for even me. After the fire went down I covered her up with dirt and unceremoniously left.

I drove back to our small apartment, I’d stay there for a few days until the rent was due and then I’d leave. I needed to gather my thoughts and figure out what to do. On the long drive home, a thought occurred to me. I pulled over to the side of the road. I dug through my mother’s bag and found her journal. Filled with information about hunts, for future reference, mostly. But she had pictures of us together in it as well, small memories and tokens from her past. I flipped through it and found the picture I needed. It was her when she was my age. Younger, even. She looked beautiful. She was held in the arms of a tall handsome boy, just about her age. He had light brown hair and green eyes. I flipped the picture over. 

Dean Winchester was scrawled over the back of it. She’d told me a few times that the boy in this picture was my father. She said he didn’t even know about me, they were both so young and he’d moved away before she could tell him and they lost contact. I doubted he looked exactly the same, but this boy, or rather the man he’d become was my only known living family. 

I had to find him. What else could I do?


	2. Chapter 2

We’d never talked about what we would do if something happened to the other. It’s not like we didn’t talk about death. Death was in our job description. Literally. My mother had been a coroner with the Medical Examiner’s office where we lived. Yes, by day I went to high school and was a semi-regular teenage girl. By day my mother would work as a coroner, cutting open bodies and performing autopsies. By night, we hunted ghosts and monsters and things that go bump in the night. Well, not every night. 

We were “hunters”. We hunt the monsters and save lives. But we also kept as normal of a life as we could. We only hunted things that came to our town or those surrounding. Basically, if it was any where near us, we brought it down. 

My mother taught me everything she knew about hunting and about autopsying bodies. I knew everything about the human anatomy and about how to kill a shapeshifter. I knew about ghosts and spirits and werewolves and vampires and wendigos and shifters witches and demons. Basically, if there was a monster or creepy crawly out there killing or terrorizing people, I could gank it or at the very least figure out how. 

She started out just researching things and finding out how to protect herself. But then things starting showing up and she knew about them, so she couldn’t just let people die. So she started hunting. That’s when she started keeping a journal. It has a record of every single hunt she and I had ever done. It was filled to the brim with information about how to kill things. For future reference she always says. Said. 

My name is Chloe Winchester. Yes, I have my father’s surname and for whatever reason the name Winchester gets demons and monsters all tingly inside and I’d been almost killed plenty of times because of it. My mother’s name is Allison Cooper. Was. Her name was Allison Cooper. 

I was lucky it was the middle of summer, so no one would notice when I disappeared. Well, they’d notice but just think we moved away or something. It wouldn’t draw too much attention. When I made it back to our small apartment I parked the car on the street and went straight inside. I didn’t bother showering and simply collapsed on the sofa, too exhausted to even make it to my bed. 

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but it was a good, black, dreamless sleep. I wish I had slept longer. But no. I had to wake up and face the reality of what had happened. I slowly got up, my entire body in post-hunt pain. 

I wobbled to the bathroom and peeled my blood stained clothes off. I’d need to burn those later. For a while I just stood in the shower, watching the blood swirl down the drain. I could tell I was crying. It was almost in a haze. I could tell I was, even though my cheeks were already wet from the shower. It just hurt so much. My mom was the only person I ever really trusted and loved. She was the most important person in my life. My best friend. I didn’t have many friends at school. I went to her for everything. Now she was gone. 

I stayed in the shower long after it had gone cold. After what seemed like hours later I finally climbed out and got dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I had a lot of stuff to do. I had to get my mother’s stuff together and pack what I would need when I went to find my dear old dad. I wasn’t planning on coming back to this place, so I’d have to pack up everything. 

I walked in the kitchen and grabbed a beer. My mom never let me have any, but I’d been to enough parties to know just how high my tolerance was. Besides, she wasn’t going to need them now. I chugged an entire bottle. Deciding it wasn’t strong enough I headed for the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. Oh yeah. That’d be great. I took a swig, enjoying the burn as it slid down my throat. 

I went to the stereo and blasted my classic playlist. Queen, Poison, Survivor, Kansas, Aerosmith, all the classics. I blared it and sang along to Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Queen was one of the few bands my mom actually listened to with me. She liked the classics but she felt I went overboard with it. I was convinced I was born in the wrong decade. 

For some reason, I was always drawn to classic and punk rock and I always wore leather and plaid. My mom was into more...girly stuff. She tried dressing me in pink and flowers up until I was five years old and I burned a fluffy pink dress she tried to force me into. Yes. I was literally a five year old pyromaniac. Granted, I really hated that dress. 

So she let me pick out my own clothes. Jeans and t-shirts and leather and boots and plaid. I was a tomboy. My mom said I’m the spitting image of my dad, right down to the kind of music I listened to and the way I dressed. I laughed her off. I had my own style. I wasn’t about to let some random guy who contributed an X chromosome take credit for that. 

I don’t know what it was, but my usual playlist of classic rock wasn’t enough for me right now. I switched to harder music. Stuff my mom really couldn’t stand. 

Go To Hell, For Heaven’s Sake by Bring Me The Horizon started playing and I jumped up and down to the rhythm, headbanging and singing along. I took swigs of whiskey every now and then, but I was completely into the music. 

I had no idea what time it was, but I needed this. Just rocking out to some good music and getting drunk. It was an outlet. Something I inexplicably needed. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was better than some things. I just lost my mother. How was I supposed to feel?

So I started packing stuff away. I couldn’t carry it all in my car, but I already had an idea of what I was going to do with all the excess stuff. I started in the living room, bagging and boxing everything from movies and dvds, to pictures and candles and random little things decorating the room. Just packing away every memory.

Put this in a box, take another swig. Throw that away, another sip of alcohol. It burned my throat and made my brain go kind of fuzzy. It was a good way to forget. 

The next few days were like that. Blasting loud rock music and packing and cleaning and drinking. Lots of drinking. But soon, our apartment was no longer a home filled with memories and love, it was all packed away, shoved into boxes in the corner of the living room. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Or maybe it did an I was too drunk to notice. 

I sorted through the rest of my things, tucking the journal into my backpack. It was an old denim thing, but durable and held a lot more than it looked like it could. I’d had this stupid backpack my entire life. My mother always told me it was my dad’s and that brought me some sort of comfort. The initials DW are still written in the bottom of it. I tucked the picture of my younger mom and dad into my wallet and finished going through my things. I’d have to start living out of my car and motels and I’d only have what I carried with me. 

It was going to be hard, but I knew I could make it. I had to. I had to find my only living family. My dad. I didn’t have any other options, even when he didn’t know about me. I carried my two bags of clothes to my car, a deep red ’67 Pontiac GTO. It was a rag top and I loved it. I bought it myself. Well, my mom bought it and it was still technically in her name, but I’d paid her back for it and she was going to officially put the title in my name when I turned 18. She could never do that now. 

I loaded the bags into the trunk. I loaded my guitar into the backseat. I couldn’t afford my baby to get messed up. Which is why I never brought her on hunts, but now, I didn’t have a choice. I refused not leave my precious guitar behind. My guitar and my car were my most prized possessions. The backseat of my car lifted up to reveal a secondary trunk of sorts. It was filled with weapons. Not many, a few pistols and two shotguns and various blades, mostly silver. There was spray paint and sulfur and salt and pentacle charms and holy water; the works. Just about everything one might need to hunt monsters. Well, not actually that much, but enough. 

I hired men to move the boxes and furniture from the apartment to an empty storage unit I rented. I used the rest of my mom’s money to pay for four months worth of storage. I didn’t want to think about if I needed longer than that to find my father. 

It took a week and a half, but the apartment was empty an everything was in order. 

Now the real hunt would begin.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Dean were hunting a coven of vampires. Missing persons, mutilated cattle, the whole shebang. After questioning several people, it was very obvious that it was vamps. More than one, probably. 

All the evidence pointed to their “layer” being in an abandoned house in the middle of a large field. It was open on all side, so it would be difficult to penetrate without being seen. Normally they would need a little extra muscle and they’d pray to Castiel, but after what happened... They didn’t even know if he was still alive. 

It hurt Dean a lot more than he let on. He barely slept, even though he pretended to and was always sipping from a flask throughout the day and once it turned night, he went to the nearest liquor store or bar and got hammered to forget. Cas was his best friend, and he didn’t have many friends to begin with. Sam didn’t count. 

He lost someone he cared about. Dean was sick and tired of losing the people he loved. Only in the darkest recesses of his mind did he admit that he loved Cas. And he did. So much it scared him. 

Armed with machetes and large knives dipped in dead men’s blood, and yeah a gun or too because, well you never know, the brothers crept up a small hill. It was daylight and that meant they would all be sleeping. Perfect time to attack. They checked the windows and it looked like they were all passed out in the main room. Very stupid. 

They slowly opened the front door, checking for booby traps. There didn’t appear to be anyone guarding them. There were only three of them. Not too much, but enough to kill several defenseless humans. 

We crept up on them and saw them splattered in blood. Upon closer examination two of them were already beheaded and one was laying on the floor, out of it. Someone probably drugged him with dead man’s blood. 

Dean kicked him and he started to come to. Dean wanted to know what was going on. Who had gotten to their kill before they had? 

The vamp blinked up at Sam and Dean and hissed, fangs sliding out. Dean placed a foot on the his neck. It wasn’t really necessary since the guy was so out of it, but Dean needed to show him who was really in control here. 

“What happened here?” demanded Sam, holding his machete out next to the vampire’s face. 

The guy hissed and wheezed, “Attacked..”

“By who?” asked Dean gruffly. “Who got to you before we did?”

“A girl...alone...”

“A girl did this? Alone? No way. Dean, that’s crazy,” said Sam. 

The vamp’s eyes widened and he stared at Dean. “You’re Dean? Dean Winchester?”

Dean sighed. This happened sometimes, when you were as infamous hunters as they were. Monsters tended to try to kill them more often than other hunters. “What about it?”

“She was...looking...for you,” said the Vamp slowly. Clearly, whatever he had was worse than dead man’s blood; he was dying. That didn’t really bother Dean but what the hell caused this to happen? Why hadn’t they heard of it? 

“For me? Why? Who is she?” demanded Dean. 

“Just you...not the other. Dean Winchester...”

“Why?!” asked Sam loudly. 

“She’s been hunting you for...months, she said. Didn’t say why...” he said, his breaths getting shallower and shorter. 

“Come on, you gotta know more!” said Dean. Who the hell was hunting them? No one hunted them. They were the hunters. Just them the vamp’s eyes rolled back in his head and he stopped breathing. He was dead. 

“Sonuvabitch!” exclaimed Dean, kicking the dead body. 

“Woah, calm down, Dean,” said Sam. 

“What the hell is going on? First that demon in Minnesota said ‘she’ is looking for me now this?”

Sam patted Dean’s arm. “Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. Don’t worry, man.   
We’ll figure this out.”

“I don’t know, man. Whoever this is has major skill. I mean, trapping that demon specifically for us to find, then whatever she did to this vamp...I mean have you ever seen anything like that? It wasn’t dead man’s blood it was something more potent. What the hell is going on lately?”

Dean felt like he was about to crack from the stress. First, Castiel going crazy and then going into that lake and letting those leviathans out. The leviathans alone were a lot to deal with, but the loss of Cas was taking it’s toll on Dean. He was normally stronger than this, but he felt like he’d been strong for too long. He needed a drink. 

“I know, it’s crazy. I’ve never even heard of anything doing that, not even in the lore. But at least we know for sure that someone’s hunting us, so we’ll be prepared,” Sam said, always the straightforward, logical one. 

Dean sighed, knowing he was right, and freaking out about things out of his control wouldn’t help anything. What he wouldn’t give to have Cas with them. He’d know what was up. He could find this mysterious girl and they’d take care of it and afterwards they’d all have beers and burgers and pie and Dean would get to laugh at Cas’s confusion about pop culture references and make fun of him without Cas realizing. Dean missed the angel a lot more than he cared to admit. 

“Yeah, man. I guess we should probably get outta here,” said Dean finally. 

They would deal with this girl when the time came. Cross that bridge when they came to it and all that. Dean just hoped he could deal with whatever it was without his angel.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe Winchester was on month number three. She’d been without her mom for three months and she’d been hunting down her dad for just as long. Apparently, just as my mother had told me, he was a hunter. And a pretty big deal, too. Every vampire or demon or werewolf I encountered and interrogated said the same things. 

A: They hated Dean Winchester. 

B: They were terrified of him. Well, him and his brother. Apparently I have an uncle. Sam Winchester, dear old dad’s younger brother. 

Some of the demons babbled about vessels and angels and the apocalypse. I’d never heard of angels being real, but hell. Demons and monsters were, so why not angels? As for the apocalypse, well it hadn’t happened yet, so it didn’t bother me. 

The Winchester brothers moved around too much for me to really find them, but I figured they’d pick up my trail of blood soon enough. And if not, the last demon I interrogated and sent back to hell informed me that I could get ahold of them via a man called Bobby Singer. You could never be too sure about the word of a demon, though. So I would hunt down this Bobby Singer, but I’d be extra cautious. I could be walking into a trap. 

That’s when I found a hunter. He was older and drunk at a bar and I could tell it was a hunter immediately. I wasn’t sure why, but I did. Something about the way he carried himself and how I could tell he had several weapons hidden on his person. 

His name was Rufus. And he was hammered off his ass. I hinted that I was a hunter, too and that made him seem a little more friendly toward me. And I threw up the name Bobby Singer. He laughed loudly, not hearing what I actually said and instead responded to the name and went on and on about old war stories, how Bobby was a good buddy of his. 

“Oh, old Bobby. I remember this one time...” he slurred, he seemed like he was about to pass out. 

“Yeah thats nice, but where can I find him? I need his help with something,” I said. Which wasn’t completely a lie. 

“Watcha need help wiff? I can help.”

“I just need to find Bobby. I need his help finding someone,” I told him. 

“Who? I know lotsa people I could help,” he said, slurring. Man he was so drunk he likely wouldn’t even remember this conversation. 

I hesitated. I think I could tell him. Yeah, I could tell him. He wouldn’t remember anyway and he was a happy, drunk old man. “Dean Winchester.”

His eyes hardened at the name. “Why ya need to find him?”

I hesitated, rolling the words around in my mind for a moment before I said them. “He’s family.”

Rufus raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. Maybe it was the way I said it. I don’t know. 

“Well, I was talking to Bobby on the phone the other night and he mentioned that ole Sam and Dean are working a case not far from here. Just a few towns over, actually. Werewolf. You could probably find them there, if you catch them before they leave,” he said. 

I grinned. This was the closest I’d been in all of three months. I slapped his arm. “Thanks. It means a lot. I gotta go.”

He didn’t protest at my leaving, simply downed another shot. That was a lot easier than I though it was. Well, if you call hunting down one person for three months easy. 

I practically sprinted to my car and peeled out of the driveway. I was almost there. As I drove down the road, I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting. For him to take me in? What would I even say when I found him? What would he say? What would he do? Would he even remember my mom after 16 years? I put it all out of my mind. He was the only family I had left. I had to believe that meant something.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke up before Sam did. Well, he didn’t really sleep much that night anyway. He kept tossing and turning, thinking about everything. Cas, how they were being hunted by another thing. Person. Girl. Whatever it was. These creepy ass new creatures that got unleashed. Leviathans or whatever. All they knew about them so far was that they oozed black goo and pretty much didn’t die. Oh and they had a huge mouth and rows of sharp teeth and a craving for human flesh. Add on the fact that they can shape-shift into anyone, well long story short the brothers were up shit creek without a paddle. 

Dean missed the good-ole days. Back when they were just hunting and didn’t have the weight of the world on their shoulders. Back before the apocalypse and being vessels and before hell and leviathans and mother of all monsters and before just...before everything. When it was just the brothers and there was no demon blood or anything it was just hunting. It was just the next case, the next job to help people. Back when it was just saving people and hunting things. Not saving the world and hunting the evilest motherfuckers to walk the earth. 

But Dean at least got good things out of it. Got new friends, new allies. But in the end they’d lost too much. And deep down Dean knew they’d end up losing more before they were both put six feet down. And all Dean could do is fight for his family. And well...Cas was family. And he was gone. Out of everyone maybe Dean could admit he missed him the most. He’d lost him once and now again. He wasn’t sure how much more his heart could take before he ripped it out himself to prevent further pain. 

Before Sam fully woke up Dean snuck into the bathroom and hid himself in the shower. He knew his younger brother was getting worried about him. But Dean was trying. He was trying so hard to hide it all. If Sam knew how Dean really felt then he’d really be worried. 

After Dean had been standing in the shower for about an hour he felt it was time to get ready for their next hunt. They’d found a werewolf. It was a tough sonuvabitch, too. They’d gone after it once and it had escaped. It was just the single werewolf, usually a done deal. Easy to deal with but this one was putting up one hell of a fight. Tonight, though. They’d get it for sure tonight. 

He didn’t bother with shaving or much else. Simply toweled off and dressed in a mechanical motion. He walked into the other room, plastering a fake, grim smile on his face, ready for the heart to heart he knew was coming from his brother. Sam was buried in his laptop, researching something new probably. Dean took the moment to slip by him, out of the room and outside. 

He popped the trunk and pretended to be messing around with their stuff. He just wanted to be alone. He grabbed the right weapons. Everything silver they had, his Desert Eagle hand gun that he always had with him. Holy water and salt and matches to burn the body when they were through. He stuffed all of it, aside from his own gun, in a duffel and tossed it in the back seat of the Impala. Glancing around, he took out the flask from his jacket pocket and unscrewed it. He tipped it to his lips and tilted it back, swallowing down the bitter liquid. It didn’t even burn his throat like it used to. He quickly put it away just as Sam stepped outside. Even though it was still daylight, they were going to go set up and scope out the area. 

“We got the room till tomorrow,” Sam told him. 

Dean nodded. He remembered from when they booked the room. Sam paused, staring at Dean with that gooey, over concerned expression. 

He rolled his eyes and muttered “Don’t even start, Sam.”

They got in the car, slamming the doors. “Don’t start what, Dean? Worrying about you? How can I not? You don’t eat, you hardly sleep and when you do, you have nightmares. Whats going on with you?”

Dean snapped. He couldn’t help it. “What the hell do you think’s goin’ on, Sam? Cas not only betrayed to fucking Crowley of all people but now he’s gone. We’re being hunted again. Some bitch is hunting us down and we don’t know why. There’s another fucking monster on the loose. One we don’t know how to kill. Do you see what we do for a living? Of course I have nightmares. You can’t do this job and not have them. I’m fine, Sam. Just fine. So drop it.”

Sam put his hands in the air in surrender, turning to the window to ignore his brother. Dean peeled out of the parking lot, blaring AC/DC and ignoring him just as much. 

 

>


	6. Chapter 6

I had taken care of the werewolf. It was new and kept switching back and forth from petrified human to blood thirsty werewolf, fangs and claws out, yellow eyes flashing. It had put up one hell of a fight and slammed me into a pillar in the barn, cutting my forehead open and making me dizzy. I could deal though. I ignored the pain and tried to stand straight. It pounced on me again, tried to get its teeth around my forearm but I wrestled it away. My gun was knocked away but I grabbed a silver dagger sheathed in my boot and slit its throat. It stumbled away from me, holding its throat. I took the moment to thrust my blade into it’s heart, ending it’s pain and putting an end to its miserable existence. The body fell to the ground, transforming back into human. 

I sighed. “This was a lot easier with you, Mom,” I murmured. I poured salt and lighter fluid over the body and lit it aflame, right there in the dank barn, and settled myself in to wait. It was early morning. The Winchester would soon find me, in search of the beast. At least, I hoped they would. I put a hand to my forehead. It had stopped bleeding. I went to my car and grabbed my guitar. Might as well waste time. 

It was three hours before they found me. It heard them muttering at the entrance. Could these legendary Winchesters really be so loud? How on earth were they even still alive if they did this on every hunt? Surely had the werewolf still been alive it would have had the drop on them. I ignored it and plucked the chords for “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”, softly singing the words. It was a favorite of mine and was my mom’s all time favorite classic era song. So I played in homage to her. It took almost the whole song for the boys to walk up on me, I looked up at them and finished the song. 

I got up and stretched. I strapped my guitar onto my back. “Bout time you boys got here. I’ve been waiting.”

I could tell this took them by surprise. “Waiting? The hell?” exclaimed the taller one. 

They had their guns pointed at me. They must think I’m the werewolf. I sighed, “Are those really necessary?”

“Who the hell are you?” demanded the shorter one. Presumably Dean, he looked quite similar to the old picture of him and my mom. 

“Not the werewolf, you bunch of amateurs. He’s over there in the corner,” I told them, motioning to the burnt body. “I took care of him for you.”

“Yeah, right. How are we supposed to know?” demanded the tall one. 

I sighed, pulling out my silver dagger and a sterile wipe from my pocket. Gotta be prepared. I wiped it off and added another cut to the collection of them on my arm.   
“Happy?”

Dean snatched the knife from my hand, making sure it was silver. He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not a werewolf or a shifter. Then who are you. Demon?”

He unceremoniously splashed salted holy water on me. I blinked. “Thanks. We done now?”

“You still haven’t answered us. Who are you and what do you want?” demanded the tall one. From the information I gathered, this Sasquatch was Sam Winchester. 

“I’m another hunter. I’ve been searching for you two for...a while. Must’ve been three months by now.”

At this new information, Dean looked like his head was gonna explode. “You’re the one who’s been hunting us? A teenage girl is the one we’ve been worried about? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

“Waoh, Dean-o. Calm down. This next thing might be a little worse for you. I hope you don’t have heart problems. Maybe you should sit down for this. Actually. Could we not do this here? I kinda need a change of clothes and to get cleaned up. Then we can talk.”

“No. We do this here. What do you want? Spit it out. Must be important if you’ve been hunting us down for months,” Dean said, clearly upset. 

I let out a breath, ignoring the nervous feeling in my stomach. “Here goes. Dean, I’m your daughter.” 

He looked at me for a second then looked at Sam, then back at me. And the promptly burst out laughing. Sam just rolled his eyes at his brother and sighed. He spent the next few moments laughing while I impatiently tapped my foot. 

I groaned to myself. “Great going, Chloe. Tell him he’s your dad and he starts laughing.”

“Woah. You’re serious? You really think I’m your dad? Well sorry to burst your   
bubble kid, but I’m not anybody’s dad,” said Dean, still clearly amused by the idea. 

Sam chimed in, “I don’t know, Dean. Remember Lisa? You thought Ben might be yours.”

Dean instantly stiffened. “Dude. What the hell did I tell you would happen if you ever mentioned them again?”

“You’d deck me in-” Sam was cut off by Dean punching him in the face. 

The tall man barely budged but still held his face. “What the hell Dean?”

“I was serious.”

“Okay, but this is relevant, Dean. Just hear her out. What if she really is your daughter?” Sam said, hand still on his cheek. 

It felt kind a nice that Uncle Sammy was actually defending me, even though he didn’t know me, and in their eyes I wasn’t actually related. 

Dean scoffed and turned to me. “Okay, prove it.”

I sighed, head pounding a little. Maybe I should have gone back to my motel and got cleaned up and then came back to wait on them. Too late now. I guess I did kind of want out first meeting to be a little dramatic. 

“You know what? I know this great burger place a few miles down the road. And as I’m currently, uh, you know, wounded and covered in blood, maybe we could meet there in like an hour or so? So I can get cleaned up and I think this head wound might need stitches,” I said the last part more to myself than anything, reaching my hand up to touch my head. It wasn’t bleeding much anymore. And I’d just blame it on a concussion as to why I’d sat in a barn all by myself, dirty and wounded. 

Sam’s face filled with concern. Yep. I’d definitely heard the rumors right. He was totally a bleeding heart. I could tell. I was even pretty sure what he was going to say next, just based on his expression. 

“Here, let us take you back to your motel or wherever you’re staying and I can help clean you up. We’ve kind of dealt with plenty of wounds like that,” he offered. 

I scoffed and Dean rolled his eyes. “What and leave my car here? I don’t think so. I may be injured and have a slight concussion but I can still drive. Besides my mom was a coroner. She went to actual med school. She taught me all about how to sew up wounds and yeah, I’ve dealt with it before, too.”

“You gonna do it all yourself, while still woosy from a concussion, I don’t think so,” said Dean, crossing his arms and taking a protective stance. The hell did he care anyway? To him I was just some poser claiming to be his long lost kid. I totally got where he was coming from. 

“Yeah, but what about my car-” I started. 

“I can drive it back to the hotel, while Dean follows us in the Impala,” said Sam. 

“Woah, Impala? What year?” I asked, my interest immediately piqued. 

“1967 four-door Sport Sedan,” answered Dean immediately. He smiled fondly. “She’s my baby.”

“Oh, nice. I drive a ’67 Pontiac GTO. Red. Convertible. Sweetest thing this side of the ‘verse,” I said, sighing happily, thinking of my car.

Dean whistled. “Pretty nice. But my baby’s definitely better.”

I laughed. “Uh, no. Mine is definitely better.” 

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. He seemed to do that a lot. “Just come on. You two   
can argue over muscle cars after her head has stopped bleeding.”

Sam grabbed my arm and started hauling me outside. I jerked away once we were outside in the sun. I considered pulling my knife on him, then remember Dean still had it. 

“Don’t grab me like that again, Sasquatch,” I growled to him. He may have been meaning well. But I was too defensive to deal with that shit. Instincts and all.

He held his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude or whatever. Where’d you park anyway?” 

“80 yards that way, behind that copse of trees,” I told him pointing. He started off and I attempted to follow but then the world started turning one way and me the other and if it hadn’t been for Dean holding me up I would have landed on my butt. Or worse, on the guitar strapped to my back. That would have been a fate worse than death. To me at least. 

“Woah, steady there. Sam take her guitar. I’ll help her walk,” he said pulling my guitar from me. I started to protest when he gave me a pointed look and I shut my mouth, crossing my arms angrily. We started walking to my car, one of his arms around my waist, helping me walk. 

“I’m not a child, I can walk on my own,” I muttered. 

“Yeah, sure you can. You tell the ground that and maybe it won’t smack you in the face on the way down,” he said. 

We made it to my car and I pulled away, climbing in the passenger seat on my own while Sam put my guitar in the back seat and then got in the driver’s side. He held out his hand for the keys and I grudgingly gave them to him, eyeing Dean, walking away towards his own car. 

I gave Sam directions to the motel I was staying at. Which was actually only down the road from theirs. Sam helped me inside while Dean pulled up beside my car. I just caught a glance of him checking out my ride and smirked to myself. 

“Okay, okay. I think I got it from here,” I told Sam. I grabbed my bag and went to the bathroom. I heard Dean come in just as I closed the door. While I was undressing I could hear the muffled undertones of conversation but didn’t catch any words. I got in the shower, focusing on washing the blood off of me and not freaking out because I finally met my birth father and it had been a total wash out. 

But hey what was I expecting? That he’d accept it right away? No, thats stupid. Of course he would want proof. I ran through different things in my head to how I could prove it. The picture of him and my mom, I guess is the only hard proof I have. Beyond that he’d just have to believe my story. 

I stepped out of the shower, toweling off and getting dressed. I had washed off all of the dirt and dried blood so the cut on my head was newly bleeding. I pressed a clean towel to and went back out where Sam and Dean stopped talking immediately. I plopped down on the bed with my bag, rummaging through it to get out the dental floss, a suture needle, alcohol and bandages. 

“Who’s gonna do this? One of you offered so...?” I started. 

Sam got up. “I’ll do it. Dental floss? Really?” 

“Hey,” I said defensively. “It works, plus keeps it clean at the same time. Bite me.”

I heard Dean chuckle. I looked over to see him shaking his head and biting back a smile. I guess that was a good sign? Sam took that moment to pour alcohol down my face without warning. I closed my eyes and mouth just in time.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, spluttering. “You realize that stuff is for external use only right?”

“Yeah, sorry.” 

I grit my teeth and tried not to move as he deftly sewed the skin back together. I tried my best to think of something else and not make a face, keeping deathly still and an impassive face as my stomach churned. I’d always had a high pain threshold. It was proving true in this instance as well. In a few minutes he was done and placed the bandage over it. He was gentle, I could say that much. 

I ran my hand idly over the bandage, “Thanks, Uncle Sammy.”

His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hey I’m not-”

“You’re Dean’s brother right? And he’s my dad so yeah you are,” I said in a no-nonsense tone. 

“Look, kid we don’t even know that you are my kid yet, so lay off,” said Dean. 

“Yeah. Thats understandable. But I am.”

“Whatever. Lets just go and get this over with. You okay to drive now?” asked Dean. 

I scoffed. “Obviously.” I stood up and stumbled a little. “Maybe not...”

“Come on, kid. You can just ride with us.”

“Fine. Hmph.”

 

>


	7. Chapter 7

Dean couldn’t stay in that diner one more second. He quietly got up and stepped outside, going to his car and leaning against it. He needed a minute. He couldn’t just sit in there with his daughter. The daughter he never knew about. The daughter who had to grow up without a father. The daughter who was in the life. That was the last thing he ever would have wanted for his kids. He totally got teaching them and getting them protected. But when he did think about kids, it was thinking of giving them the childhood he’d never had. Not filled with monsters and learning weapons and how to defend yourself. 

Not only that, this was his daughter. He was a father. A dad. He’d always just assumed that he’d get killed on a hunt and never get the chance to have kids. He’d tried with Lisa. Oh, he’d tried. But the life wasn’t something you could give up that easily. The nightmares plague you and you see danger everywhere. It was an itch he had to scratch by hunting these bastards down. He couldn’t just let innocent people get killed when he could be helping. He just...what was he going to do? He didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid. Well, she was pretty much already raised. Nearly an adult. 

And that was another thing. Her mother. Ally. His Ally. She’d been his first sweetheart. He was young and she was too, just a year or two older than him. Naive. And now, she was dead. Really gone. He’d unknowingly left her to raise a child on her own. His heart ached at the loss. He didn’t get to see his kid grow up. He’d missed the first steps and the first time riding a bike. He’d missed all of that. And what was he going to do now? 

“Dammit, Cas. I’d give anything to have you here, now. Can you hear me? Wherever you are? I need you, buddy. I don’t know what to do,” he said under his breathe, casting his eyes heavenward. He waited for the familiar rush of wings that never came. He waited for the gravelly voice to startle him. But it never came. It never would. 

He wasn’t alone, though. He still had Sam. However messed up their relationship might be. He could tell Sam was slipping, though. Ever since Cas tore down the wall that Death had put up in his mind, he knew Sam had worse nightmares than him. Dean wasn’t sure what he’d do. He saw Sam looking wildly around corners sometimes, as if seeing something or someone that wasn’t there. And maybe Dean was slipping just as much. His spirit was weary. He was tired. He was ready to be done with all this. 

And now he found out he had a kid. It was a lot to take in. Someone else might be happy. Overjoyed, even, at finding out they had a long-lost family member. Not Dean. All he could think of was how her even being in proximity to him put her in danger. Not only that, she had inherited the life along with his last name. This complicated things, to say the least. He couldn’t take losing another person. He was falling apart at the thought of having lost Cas. He’d lost Sam. And Cas. He’d gotten them back of course but this time was different. He didn’t even know if Cas was really dead. Maybe he was one of those black ooze monsters. Maybe they would have to kill him. Dean shuddered at the thought. 

His first instinct was to run. Run as far away from Sam and the girl. To keep them safe. But there was also a part of him that made him ache to protect them. He couldn’t do that if he was miles away. Yes. It was better that he was with them. That would be the only way he’d know if anything would happen to them. His next instinct was to take her to Bobby’s and make him babysit her until they got this whole Leviathan mess sorted. But who knows how long that would take? He didn’t want to miss anymore time with her. A kid needed a dad. Needed a parent. Period. Like she said. Him and Sam were all she had left, now. 

Sighing, he walked back inside and slid back into the booth across from Sam and Chloe. “We should get a DNA test done. Just to be sure,” he said. 

“What! Don’t you believe me?!” exclaimed Chloe, instantly upset by his suggestion. 

“Its not that. I do. But we need to have some kind of written evidence when people start asking around,” explained Dean. 

Sam was spaced out, staring over the counter at the front of the diner. He paled, then abruptly got up and ran to the bathroom. Literally ran. 

Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go.”

Dean nodded and changed the subject back to the DNA test. “I know a guy that can probably do it for us for free. He’s basically our uncle. The man’s a second father to us. You can trust him.”

“Okay. So what is he like my grandpa?” Chloe asked, eyes lighting up. Dean took a moment to study her. She did look just like her mother. Except that she had his green eyes and light hair, gold highlights lighting up in the afternoon sun. She had a small bit of freckles across her cheeks. She had been just up to his shoulder in height. So of course she was tiny compared to Sam. She had a curvy yet muscular build that showed she was stronger than she looked. She was definitely a fighter. A warrior, even. He could see it in her eyes and the way she held herself. 

Dean chuckled. “I wouldn’t call him that if I were you, but yeah, I guess.”

“Well what do I call him?” she asked curiously. 

“Just Bobby,” Dean answered. 

She tilted her head in a way that completely did not remind him of a certain angel and asked “So what do I call you and Sam?”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever. I’m your...dad...so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, sure thing, Daddy Dearest. Maybe I should call you Pops.”

“No.” was Dean’s immediate response. Chloe just laughed in response, eating more of her french fries. 

Dean couldn’t even bring himself to eat his own food. This was all his fault. If he had begged his dad to stay a little longer, he would have found out about Ally’s pregnancy. Maybe then he’d have been there to help raise Chloe. Maybe he’d have stopped her being in the life. Maybe he would have been there to save her mother. Maybe. But then again. Maybe nothing. He knew his father would have drug him away in search of the yellow-eyed demon. And having been so young, he would have had no say in it. Still. And if he’d been stronger, more vigilant. He could have seen Cas’s betrayal. He could’ve stopped him from destroying himself and letting loose all of these horrible monsters. He should have. He should have saved them all. He should have saved Sam. But no, he’d failed at that, too. 

And now. What was he supposed to do?


	8. Chapter 8

We left that day. Taking only a few minutes to pack our gear and get on the road. I guess Dean wanted to spend time with me, but his brother was looking paler by the minute and spacing out more often. I wondered if he was okay. But I guess living this kind of life took its toll. And I refused not to drive my car. Dean didn’t want to let Sam drive any car. So I just followed him down the road. Even two cars back I could hear him blasting Led Zeppelin. For once, I wasn’t playing any music. I just let the rumble of my car’s engine keep me company. 

I don’t know how I expected it to go. What I expected to happen when I found him. But...I guess it went okay. He seemed alright. Not as amazing as my mother described him, but not as bad as I’d hear either. I’d make my own judgements about him. My mind flew back to that night. My mother’s death. 

I saw the demon’s black eyes in my mind. Saw him kill her. I remembered the smell of that basement. I remember how my heart broke when I saw her neck snap under his vile hands. I remember her blue eyes staring up at me, empty. Void of the soul that used to be there. Tears blurred my vision and my breathing hastened and got shallow. No. No, no, no. Please. Not now. Not here. I was trying to drive. I didn’t need a panic attack to ruin that. I didn’t want Dean, my newly found father, to see me and think of me as weak. 

I tried to push it away and calm myself, but it didn’t work. Sweat broke out on my forehead and my heart was pounding. I felt as though something was trying to grab at the back of my neck, making me drive faster. I passed the cars in front of me, almost hitting a mini-van head on before I got back into my own lane. I couldn’t escape the feeling of fear, bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I had to pull over before I wrecked. I passed the impala and turned down a nearby driveway, slamming to a stop and vaulting out of my car. I stumbled onto the cool grass and tried to regain myself. It was as if the more I tried, the worse it got. I couldn’t breathe, no matter how much I gasped for air. It felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. It wasn’t particularly hot but I felt the dampness at the back of my shirt from sweat. I looked down at my hands and they were shaking as if I was an addict needing a fix. I curled up on the grass and put my head between my knees. I tried practicing the breathing exercises my mom taught me. Only, she was always there whenever I had a panic attack. And now she wasn’t. And never would be again. 

That thought made it worse and I couldn’t stop the tears when they came. I felt like I was going to pass out when two hands came to grasp my shoulders. 

“Chloe? Come on, Chloe, talk to me. Whats going on? Are you okay?” I vaguely heard Dean asking me. 

I just couldn’t pull myself together enough to tell him that I was having a panic attack. Maybe I was lucky this time. It came on a lot slower than usual and let me pull over. I think I heard Sam say something but I was too out of it to know what. I continued to hyperventilate and freak out until I heard a soft voice singing and two arms wrapped around me, holding me close. 

“Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad.   
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better”

I looked up and Dean was the one holding me together and singing to me. I don’t know why, maybe it was some genetic thing because he was my dad, but being held by him made me feel better. He continued to sing, soft and low. 

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid  
You were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better  
And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain  
Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders”

It was surprising but his voice was actually really pleasant. I wouldn’t expect someone I’d just met to do something for me like this. Even if he was technically my dad. We probably looked like a couple of freaks to all the people passing by. But at least I didn’t feel like the world was closing in on me anymore. He didn’t finish singing the song, just kept humming and holding me, rubbing my back. I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. My breathing evened out and I knew the episode was over. I slowly wiped my tears away. 

“We okay now?” asked Dean gruffly. 

I nodded and and he helped me up. “Sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, acting as if nothing even happened. 

“I dunno...” I looked away, sticking my hands in my pockets and slouching. 

He put his hand on my arm. “Its okay, kid. You been in the life long enough, you find out that shit happens. Sometimes the bad stuff comes back and haunts you. Its not like thats the first bad episode I’ve had to deal with.” He glanced at Sam, who was staring at his shoes from the comment. 

I was surprised. “You guys have had anxiety attacks before?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. Sam nodded. “You can’t really do what we do and not have some kind of repercussions. I mean, damn. Both of us have been to hell and back.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Wait what?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. We’ve both died more times than we can count. Oddly. Both   
been to hell and been brought back. Only difference? Sam here was riding around in the Pit with Lucifer himself.”

“What the hell? Does going to hell run in the family or something?!” I cried.

Sam sighed sadly. “Its a long story.”

“Yeah. So long that if our life was written down it would take up like ten books. More actually. I can’t remember,” said Dean. 

“What?” I was really confused. 

“We’ll fill you in later. Its some kind of legacy you got into. Not all of its good. Very little actually,” Dean told me. “I should probably take a minute to call Bobby while we’re parked. Let him know everything that’s happened.”

He stepped away, pulling out his phone. I heard him talking in low tones with someone over the phone. I could hear someone yelling from the other side. I thought I heard Dean murmur something along the lines of “...she’s my daughter...”

I turned to Sam. “Soo...”

He smiled. “Yes?”

“Uh....I’m bad at small talk,” I said awkwardly. 

He laughed. “Me too.” He cocked his head like he could hear something and then   
frowned. I heard nothing. 

“Uh...Sam? What happens now?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You’re family now. Thats about it.”

“Am I going to stay with you though? That the whole reason I hunted you down for three months. I have nowhere else to go. My mom was all I had,” I gulped. 

“Yeah, kiddo. We never leave our own behind. You’re safe with us,” he said, smiling a little. 

Relief rushed through me. I had a question, “So, do you think he likes me?”

Sam nodded his head, looking over my shoulder. “Yeah I think he likes you. Dean   
doesn’t show his emotions very well. But you’re his daughter. As crazy as that is. He’d never say it, but I know he’s always wanted a family. Spouse, kids, the whole thing. But I also know he thought he’d never get any of that because of the kind of life we live. Hell I didn’t think so either. So this is kind of a blessing in disguise kind of thing.”

I glanced over to where Dean was talking on the phone, pacing. “To be honest, I was angry for a long time. I felt like he just left. Like he didn’t want me. But then my mom told me that he never knew about me. So it’s understandable. But it also kind of hard. My mom had it tough raising me alone. For a while when I was younger she was juggling me and a job and college all at the same time. I don’t know how she did it. And then later, we were both hunting and she had a job at the same time as raising me. I guess we both had it kind of tough. But we were happy. For a while.”

Sam nodded, compassion in his eyes. “I get that. We were raised like soldiers. We grew up with hunting as the first priority. School didn’t matter. But it sounds like you were happy with your mom at least.”

“Yeah I was,” I thought back, smiling. I had always been a carefree child, and then as a teenager I was the class clown. I was friends with people, but I was always guarded and never let myself get too close. I didn’t think anyone would miss me. My mom was the only person I ever got close to. And then everything changed when it happened. 

Sam must’ve seen something in my expression because his brows crinkled in worry. “What’s wrong?”

I smiled, though it was an empty gesture. “Nothing. Don’t worry I’m not gonna have another panic attack. Not for a while at least...”

“You suddenly had this, I dunno, intense look. One I’ve seen on Dean a lot. What is it?” Sam asked, concern in his tone. He acted like a paranoid freak one minute but was a bleeding heart the next. But, hey, he was my uncle. I’d take what I could get at this point. 

“You know when Dean said that you can’t do this job and not have repercussions? Well the reason I have anxiety attacks isn’t exactly just from a few bad hunts. I had them before my mom died. I was just...remembering...” I replied, trailing off. 

“Remembering what?” asked Dean as he walked over, snapping his phone shut and sticking it in his pocket. 

I chuckled humorlessly. “I’ll tell you latter. It’s not important.”

Dean took it stride and told us what had transpired over the phone. “Bobby was a little freaked at first that I had a long lost kid, but he took it okay. He said he knew a guy who could do the DNA test.”

“Did he have any news on the leviathans?” asked Sam. 

Dean shrugged. “He’s expecting us. And he sounded kind of exhausted to meet the new girl.”

I laughed. “Really?”

Dean smiled at me. “Hey, he’s gettin’ old. Grandkids or grandnieces or whatever are a big thing.”

“Well lets go meet Granddad then,” I told him. “I’m kinda excited too. The Winchester boys and Bobby Singer are kind of legends among the other hunters. And monsters, too if we’re being honest here.”

“Really?” queried Dean. 

“Yeah, I...‘interviewed’ a lot of different people and things to find you two. Most of them said that you two went and tripped the apocalypse. I said that was ridiculous because, here we are, still kickin’” I said, chuckling and shaking my head. 

Sam and Dean kind of froze. Sam coughed awkwardly and suddenly found something terribly interesting in the dirt. “We...kinda did,” started Dean.

“What the hell?!” 

“But we stopped it, don’t worry,” Sam said. 

“At a cost,” remarked Dean somberly. 

“Wow...you guys sure do get around, dontcha?” 

“Oh, just shuddup,” said Dean, groaning. “I have seriously heard enough about this.”

“Okay, okay. Lets just go. It shouldn’t take long to get there and I’m not overjoyed at the thought of driving after dark with little to no sleep,” I said. 

“Alright, kid. Drive safe,” Dean told me. “We’ll be looking out for you, in case anything else happens.”

He randomly pulled me in a side hug. I pretended to be oblivious to this. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, Dean.”

He gave me half smile and walked back to his car. As we were going down the highway a few minutes later I thought about what had just happened. Dean seemed to be accepting me okay. I guess it would take time, but he was receiving me well. Sam, too, for that matter. I wondered how long it would take for me to take down my own walls around them. I didn’t know if I could, after everything that happened. The only person I could let myself trust was my mom. I could barely talk to other normal people. Not since Detinos and his evil entered my life and destroyed it. Now when I tried to sleep my dreams were plagued with horror and pain. All I could see, all I could feel, were the fiery pits of Hell. And it was all his fault.


	9. Chapter 9

Sometimes Dean was okay. Sometimes he just put everything out of his mind. Other times, he wasn’t. Sometimes he missed Cas. He missed him like he missed a part of himself. And sometimes, he was just so...so angry. It was all he could do to keep from smashing something. Castiel had betrayed them. To a demon. And maybe, maybe that was forgivable. Sam had betrayed him and started the friggin’ apocalypse for crying out loud and Dean forgave him. Because Sammy was still Sammy. He was still his messed up, broken baby brother. And he still had to look out for him. Especially now. 

No. Dean didn’t think he could ever forgive Cas. He broke his brother. The one person in the universe he cared about more than anything and Cas went and fried his brains. Sam was all twitch and glitch now. But goddammit Dean missed him so much. Maybe if he would actually show his sorry ass around again, then he would be able to-he didn’t know what but something- again. But no. He was probably dead. Betrayed them all, broke Sammy and destroyed himself while letting loose the most insane beasts they’d ever encountered in the process. 

Dean just couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

He drove down the road, occasionally glancing in the mirror at the red GTO following them, top down. He could see Chloe’s dirty blonde hair blowing around in the wind and saw her banging her head to some kind of music. He unconsciously smiled to himself. He had a daughter. And she wasn’t so bad, either. A little damaged, maybe. But that was okay. They all were. 

They pulled into Singer’s Salvage Yard a few minutes later, Sam passed out in the passenger seat. The kid got so little sleep, Dean left him alone for a minute. Dean pulled the Impala around to the back of the house, by the back door. Chloe parked beside him. 

Sam slowly woke up once the Impala’s engine was no longer running. He stretched slightly, seeing that they had arrived at their destination. They both got out of the car and saw as Chloe did the same. She was tense. She was scanning the area, as if for danger. Dean spotted a few bulges in her clothing that he knew were weapons. 

Dean barged in Bobby’s without even knocking. It was kind of like home. The only place that was constant in their lives. They’d always moved around but they knew this was the one place that never changed. 

“Honey, I’m home!” called Dean loudly. 

Dean was splashed with holy water. Then he heard a yelp and a grunt that meant Sam and Chloe were, too. 

Dean went to embrace the hunter that had acted as a second father to them for most of their lives. He clapped Bobby’s back. “How ya been, Bobby?”

“Old and cranky,” said Bobby chuckling. 

They pulled away and Sam hugged the older man. Chloe stood in the corner, staring at Bobby’s house with a sense of awe, almost. They had come through the back door and were standing in the back hallway, but even here was lined with bookshelves and covered with books. Tons and tons of books. At least in the hallway they were all on the shelves. the shelves were also covered with miscellaneous odds and ends. Jars and pouches were haphazardly stacked on some of the shelves. 

She was drawn to an engraved gun that hung on the wall. I was a Winchester rifle. Dean didn’t ignore the irony there. “Oooooh...nice.”

“She’s a Winchester alright,” Bobby remarked. 

“Impressed?” asked Dean. 

Chloe gave a slow nod. “I’ve never seen so many books in my life. Instead of in an actual library.”

“Well, kid. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” stated the Bobby. “I’m Bobby, if ya hadn’t already figured out. I take it you’re the newest addition to the family?”

Chloe stuck her hand out, “Yep. Youngest Winchester to date. I think...”

Bobby ignored the hand and pulled her into and awkward side hug. “Glad to meet ya. Wanna see the rest of the house?”

Chloe nodded eagerly, following the old man around the corner of the hallway into the living room, that, to be honest, was more of a library. It was filled with bookshelves and where the books wouldn’t fit on the shelves, they were stacked everywhere else. Bobby’s desk was in the middle of the room and a few chairs sat in front of it. A sofa was off to the side, in front of the large bay windows. The windows were painted with what was probably blood of some kind. There were wards covering a point on every wall and Dean spotted hex bags here and there amidst the clutter. 

Chloe turned in a full circle, taking in the room. She grinned. “Nice. Needs a bit of cleaning though..”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Yeah well when yer helpin’ save the world, ya don’t exactly get time to give the place a makeover.”

“That’s okay. I can help. I’ve done no world saving of late,” Chloe chimed happily. “I love doin’ stuff like that. Lemme see the rest of the house. Gimme the grand tour.”

Bobby looked actually...happy to show her around the house. He took her through the kitchen and the showed her where the bathroom was and then they disappeared upstairs. 

Dean looked at Sam. “Is it just me or did Bobby look like a kid at Christmas?”

“Yeah, I think she’s makin’ an impression on him. I kind of expected him to be skeptical and distant,” Sam said, smiling vaguely and shaking his head.

“Do you remember one time he was drunk?” asked Dean. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Dean. That could mean every other day,” Sam said sardonically. 

“Yeah, yeah. I mean he was drunk. Like really hammered. And he was talking about his wife. How if they’d ever had kids, he’d always wanted a girl. That he had us, but a baby girl was like...I dunno...his dream. Maybe thats why he took to her so fast.”

Sam nodded. “I think I remember that. Makes sense. He’s usually the most cautious and skeptical man in the world.”

“You don’t have to remind me. Just took it like a champ and we don’t even have the DNA test done,” stated Dean.

“Yeah, speaking of, who’d Bobby say was gonna do it?” asked Sam curiously. 

“Dunno. Someone’s headed over tomorrow to get it done. Not that I think we need it,” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, man. Not to get too touchy feely but...its like I dunno. I can feel it. I just know she’s my daughter. And its not just that she looks like me, or likes the same stuff as me. Its like after everything clicked with her story, theres no way she’s not mine,” Dean told him, looking away. 

“I don’t have a kid, so I guess I wouldn’t really know how it feels. But I guess I kind of get it. Like a family bond, I guess.”

“Yeah...something like that,” Dean said. 

They heard a screech come from upstairs. Dean’s heart pounded frantically and he whipped out his gun, fearing the worst. He and Sam pounded up the stairs, following the sound. They burst through the door of the second bedroom to find Bobby doubled over, as if in pain. Dean looked around frantically for Chloe. He spotted her in front of a massive bookshelf, on her knees. 

Bobby suddenly let out a loud guffaw. He laughed loudly. He had been doubled over in silent laughter, not pain. 

Dean went to Chloe and nudged her, still worried. “Hey, kid. What’s goin’ on? You   
okay?”

She looked up at Dean with eyes wide with wonder. “Did you know he had such amazing stuff?”

Dean looked up the the large shelf she was currently in awe over. It was nothing but vinyl records. Dean vaguely remembered exploring Bobby’s house as a child and coming across them. Of course, they’d meant nothing to Dean’s ten-year-old self. The shelf of vinyls was located in the second bedroom, where almost every piece of furniture was covered with a sheet. 

Chloe started thumbing through the records, pulling them out occasionally and squeaking. Bobby chuckled some more, catching his breath. 

“I was showing her around and I showed her this and she screeched like a banshee. Funniest thing I ever heard,” Bobby said, guffawing. 

Dean though that was the most he’d heard Bobby laugh in a long time. He put away his gun, Sam doing the same. Dean nearly laughed in relief. He’d really thought something was wrong. That his family was in danger. 

“Dude, he has everything from Aerosmith to The Beatles to Elvis. This is like the ultimate collection,” said Chloe adoringly. 

“Yeah, most of them were Karen’s. She loved those old records,” Bobby said. 

“Karen?” asked Chloe curiously. 

“My wife.”

“What happened? I’m guessing by the ‘were’ that something happened...” Chloe said softly. 

“She’s dead,” said Bobby flatly. 

“So’s my mom,” said Chloe simply. As if that was all that mattered. She shrugged and went back to surfing through the record collection. 

Bobby looked relieved that she didn’t prod for more information. Dean was thankful for that, as well. Bobby led her around the rest of the house. Three bathrooms. Two upstairs and one down. Four bedrooms, two of which were currently used for storage. Dean knew Bobby ended up sleeping at his desk or on the couch more often than he did in the master bedroom. So Sam and Dean usually took one or the other bedrooms that actually had beds in them. 

Half of the time Dean ended up passed out in the Impala or the shop beside the house. He couldn’t really stand the musty dust smell that permeated through Bobby’s house. Grease and oil and familiar leather seats, however. Those were scents he could surround himself with and sleep with ease. 

They would stay there for a few days. Dean knew Sam needed the R&R. And hell, he could do with some as well. Just for a few days. They could get some good research done while they were here. And maybe Dean could get more acquainted with his daughter. Chloe volunteered to run up to the nearest chicken place and grab dinner. Dean heard her GTO peel out of the driveway and felt a pang of worry. Is that what being a parent was? Feeling worry and angst over the smallest things? Like leaving them alone or letting them drive away alone? If so, he’d been a ‘parent’ over Sam for the past three decades. 

Dean came leaned against the kitchen counter, beer in hand. Bobby looked up from the small table with computers and books set atop it. 

“So what’s the story on the kid? You didn’t really say too much when we were on the phone,” inquired the old hunter. 

Dean sighed. “Where do I start? I told you how me and her mom hooked up way back in the day. So I know she’s mine.”

“How’d she get into the life?”

Dean felt a flush of guilt. It was his fault that her mother got into the life, and thus introduced Chloe to it. Ultimately it was his fault that Alison had died. It was his fault that Chloe had lived her life without a father, and it was his fault she would go through the rest of it living without a mother. 

“We worked a case. Thats how we met. Saved her mom. That got her into it, then she passed everything she learned down to the girl.”

“Well, that how most hunters get into it. Either you lose someone or its passed down,” Bobby stated. “What happened to her mother?”

Dean gulped down the rest of his beer before answering. “They were on a hunt, apparently a demon, and Chloe was tied up and made to watch as it killed Ally. Then the kid broke lose and ganked the thing. And she gets panic attacks. Bad ones. Almost the worst I’ve seen. She was in the middle of driving and then had to swerve almost in a ditch. Something bad happened to her.” 

“She’s in the life, Dean. Bad things have happened to all of us. Everyone has their own way of dealing,” Bobby dictated. 

“No, Bobby. Not like this. I’ve seen attacks before. But not like this. She was going through something. She was convinced something was going to get her. Its a wonder she didn’t have a heart attack or something. I mean she’s been through something bad. Like, Hell bad.”

The old man’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure its nothin’. You got parental instincts takin’ over is all.”

“I don’t think so, but whatever. Maybe you’re right,” Dean scratched the back of his neck and looked away. 

“By the way. How’s Sam? He goin’ batshit lately?”

“I don’t even know anymore. Sometimes he’s fine. Other times...” Dean shrugged. “I can tell he’s slipping, man. I don’t know what to do about it. I’d give anything to fix   
him, but I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“It’ll fine. We’ll get through this like every other time God’s decided to shit on us. Now come on. I gotta go clean the other room out so the girl has somewhere to sleep. I got a bed in the garage. Might as well go get Sam, too. We might be able to get it done before she gets back.”

Dean smirked. “You like her, huh?”

The hunter shrugged. “She’s pretty much my grandkid.”

He left it at that, as if that explained everything. And maybe, Dean thought, it did.


	10. Chapter 10

I, for whatever reason, got my own room. Complete with an old mattress kept clean and nice by a thick plastic cover. The wallpaper was a faded floral design. A little too much pink for my taste, but it was roses so I was okay with it. Roses were my favorite. They had cleaned most of the clutter in the room. At least, they’d taken the dusty old boxes out of it. There was still a massive shelf covering an entire wall, covered with books and knick knacks. There had already been a bed frame pushed to one corner of the room, so I had an actual bed to sleep on. I briefly thought of my own bed, tucked into a storage unit somewhere in Illinois. Along with the rest of my family’s things. Maybe one day when I was grown I could get all of those things out and put them in a place of my own. Sadly, I didn’t see that day coming for me anytime soon.

I didn’t bother with unpacking or anything, since this wasn’t really my room. I was just sleeping here. For a while. How long, I didn’t know. When I finally got the room at least, vacuumed and dusted to where I wouldn’t cough up my lungs, I slept. And woke up screaming. Dean rushed in, his room just on the other side. I told him it was just a nightmare and we went back to sleep. And I woke up screaming again. He came in again. Then we went back to sleep.

This cycle continued until sometime in pre-dawn hours when my dreams were black and empty and warm. I slept for twelve hours, uninterrupted. I woke up at around 4 in the afternoon, hungry and needing food. Dean was passed out on the couch while Bobby was pouring over several thick texts. He didn’t even glance at me as I wandered into the kitchen. Sam was by the counter, making a sandwich. It was no gourmet meal, but I was okay with that. He was alerted to my presence by my stomach grumbling loudly.

He turned and chuckled. “Nice to see you up, sleeping beauty. Hungry?”

He held out a plate that had a sandwich. I didn’t even ask was it was, simply grabbed it and scarfed it down. I hiccuped afterward. Sam gaped at me. I grinned sheepishly.

“Oops?”

“Now there can be no doubt. Only a Winchester eats like that. No, no. Only Dean’s kid could eat like that. Okay, you want another you’re gonna hafta make it yourself. Help yourself to the chips and sodas in the fridge. I don’t really care, but Dean might kill me, so don’t get into the beer. Got it?” he said.

I nodded furiously. I made another sandwich and devoured a bag of chips by myself and then downed three diet cokes. I wandered around the house for a few minutes, exploring the piles of junk. There was some cool stuff. But I got bored. Dean woke up and then all three men were focused on doing research. Don’t get me wrong, I can get lost in a good fiction book. I was the top of my class before I left high school to hunt down my father. But. I was also a teenager. Antsy, bored easily. With no wifi and little to do, I wandered back to my room and went to sleep a few hours later.

This process continued for three more days. I resorted to wandering around the junk yard and piles of rusted out cars. I found myself lining up old cans and shooting them off the top of cars.

“Damn. Missed that one,” I muttered to myself. I loaded another clip into my pistol and pulled it out in front of me.

I aimed calmly. Let out a breath. Pulled the trigger. The shot rang out and the can I was aiming for shot off into the air. I pumped my fist in the air. I lined the cans on the top of a crushed Lexus and backed up further than I had the first time. I took a deep breathe and imagined the face of the demon that had killed my mom. I heard myself unintentionally growl. I let off the shots. The cans all flew into the air, each shot clean and accurate.

I tucked my gun into the waistband of my pants. I’d wasted enough ammo for the day. Might need it someday. Not that Bobby didn’t have plenty I could use. But that wasn’t the point. It was the principle. I bent to pick up the shell casings, what I collect them okay, and I heard footsteps behind me. Fire and blood flashed in my mind’s eye and I whirled around, instincts kicking in. I swung my gun up in front of me, but there was nothing there.

“What the hell,” I mumbled, glancing around to see if I’d missed something.

Then I felt a sharp pain in my back. It felt like I’d just been stabbed. My vision went blurry and I dizzily spun around. I saw the hazy figure of a man holding something in his hands. My vision cleared just long enough for my eyes to focus on the bloody knife he held in his hands.

Oh, shit. I _was_ stabbed.

Then everything went black.

\----------------------------------------------

It was chaos. Dean really didn’t know when it began. They crept on them in a moment of silence. They were all still poring over books to find the origin of the Leviathans. Bobby got a frantic call from Sheriff Jody Mills. The leviathans had infiltrated Sioux Falls General.

“We gotta get down there,” said Bobby.

“Already on it,” Sam was packing a bag with weapons. They still didn’t know how to kill these thing so they were taking anything and everything.

“I’ll get Chloe,” Dean said. He hit the back door.

He knew she was out doing some target practice. Come to think of it, it had been a while since he heard the last shots firing off. He felt a queasy feeling in his stomach and started running.

“Chloe? Chloe!” Dean called out for his daughter. She was nowhere to be seen. He ran forward and saw her stainless silver pistol laying on the ground, a few feet away from a pool of blood. He cursed loudly. “CHLOE!”

He pulled his phone out, sending Sam a quick text to head to Sioux Falls General that he was staying behind to look for Chloe. He examined the gravel around him, looking for footprints. He found none. He circled around, very aware that whatever took her, he refused to think that she was dead, might get him next.

His hunter instincts kicked in. He crept around the old junkyard, mentally ticking off the things that might have got her. His stomach turned violently at the thought of her being injured or worse. He had grown fond of her. Whether it was from her personality or the simple knowledge that she was his kid, he didn’t know.

Suddenly he was knocked to the ground. An Hispanic man was on top of him, holding him down. He grinned wickedly and then threw his head back, opening his mouth to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. Dean kicked him off of him, hoping to God this thing didn’t eat his daughter. The fact that he actually had to think those words just showed what a shit life he had.

Dean pulled his gun out and unloaded a clip into the thing’s face. It stumbled back a few feet but kept coming at him. Dean started sprinting away from him, an idea forming in his mind. He ducked behind a few cars, leading it away. He knew this junkyard like the back of his hand. He was about to head to the house when an explosion almost knocked him to the ground. Bobby’s old, reliable house was in flames. The house he had so many memories in, was soon to be rubble. He didn’t let himself think about it.

The leviathan ducked around the corner, grinning.

“Sonuvabtich,” Dean mumbled under his breathe.

\--------------------------------------------

Pain. Then a voice. _Get up_ , it said. _You have to win this fight_.

I didn’t expect to survive. One doesn’t really have much of a chance of survival when stabbed in the back. Death wasn’t kind. It was painful. A blinding white pain.

_No, Chloe. This isn’t death. This is life. So get your ass up. And live._

There was a piercing noise and blinding white light all around me. And then more darkness. I tried to open my eyes as feeling came back to me, but it was still dark. No, it was night. I was on the edge of Bobby’s property, a couple hundred yards away. I could just make out the junkyard. How the hell did I get here?

Oh yeah. I was stabbed. Oh shit. I scrambled up and started to run towards the house. I put my hand on my back and realized that I was no longer injured. There was dried blood and my clothes were torn, but not even a nick.

I put that to the back of my mind to figure out later and started sprinting to the scene of my...crime? I knew I dropped my gun, hopefully it was still there. Before I came to it I saw the nasty blaze that was left of Bobby’s house. I thanked whatever God there was that I kept most of my stuff in my car. But, hell, what about Dean and Sam and Bobby? I wasn’t about to try to run through a burning building, but I needed to know. So, with a little bit of hope, I called Dean’s cell, running toward my car.

Someone on the other side answered with a groan.

“Dean?!” I asked frantically.

“Chloe?”

“Who else?”

“Where are you? I saw blood an -” he didn’t finish.

“I’ll tell you later, whats going on? Where are the others? The house...” I didn’t really know what to say.

“Leviathans found us. Meet me at the gas station down the road, I’m already headed there.”

“On my way,” I said as I hung up.

My car rumbled to life and I peeled out of there. I was still sort of shell shocked and could only imagine how Bobby would feel with his home being completely destroyed. Then again, I lost my mother and my home, too.

I pulled into the deserted parking lot and parked my car next to Dean’s. He was standing by his car, and when I approached, he gripped me in a tight hug. He quickly pulled away and stared at his hand.

“Blood? What happened?” He spun me around to examine me. I grunted and pulled away.

“I’m fine, where’s Sam? Bobby?”

“They went to Sioux General. Leviathans. Just get in the car, I’ll explain on the way.”

“Fine, but you should know better than to think I’m leaving my car here.”

Dean gave me a look that was hard to decipher. A mixture of pride and annoyance. He sighed heavily. “Then follow me. We got work to do.”


End file.
